"WHAT THE FUCK" Hayden screamed internally as he started to see how deeply he was screwed. His dumb fucking mouth had gotten him into a situation that made being a lawn dart for the black turtle sect look down right appealing. Standing before him were twenty half naked, emaciated and generally fowl looking men. "This has to be a mistake" looking to his employer Vale with almost a desperate hope in his eyes. Maybe this was some elaborate joke and the man would pull an elite team of core realm cultivators from behind the disheveled group of men. By the somber shake of his head his final hopes were smashed like waves on the black rocks the port city was named after.
"Let's get everything moving, we have a warehouse just past the market district designated for our use" Hector said with little enthusiasm. "Alright boss" turning the sullen Pryor started to shepherd the slaves into something resembling ranks and led them out of the warehouse they'd been kept in. "That cheep son of a whore " thundered out of his mouth the second he was lift allown with his thoughts. He'd expected that they'd have been captured sect members, bandits or mercenaries who defaulted on loans, those who had some basic level of cultivation but no he got a bunch of press ganged farmers, petty thugs and an elderly inn keeper of all things. How were they going to get these misfits ready for the bloodbath that was pit fighting let alone something along the lines of a proper tournament.
Once they arrived at the verdant path warehouse Hector got everyone settled and ordered the few attendants to bring them food and watch over them while he and Pryor had a conversation in an office Hector had claimed. "So it's less than I was expecting but you can work with them correct" "work with them?! Half of them almost passed out from the bref walk over" Hayden said with exasperation. "Hell i don't think any of them would survive training in the state their bodies are in" shaking his head Hayden didn't have a clue what to think. "What's our budget and expected time line" " roughly eleven months before the main tournament itself, one mercy is the fact that verdant path was granted an invitation so we don't have to qualify" Hector said with a shrug. "As for the budget we've been allotted five foundation coins a month" hearing Hector say that kindled the smallest bit of hope and not the least bit of awe. Most people used mortal gold or silver but a single foundational coin was the equivalent to one common low grade foundational materials. A mortal could live like a king or a cultivator could create a small mercenary group with that type of funding.
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"One major problem is the trip to Westbank outpost is roughly six months journey and transporting everyone with the million journeys sect would likely cost us upwards of three core coins" Pryor leaned back and hissed through his teeth at the outrageous price Hector just quoted. "So we either march them through six months worth of badlands and petty sect territories or pay enough coin to make a core cultivator cry himself to sleep" Hayden Pryor said deadpan to the face of the man he'd recently viewed as his guardian angel. "Or an elder of the verdant path personally hunts us down and eviscerates us" Hector said in a matching tone. Sigh "let's get started".